Lonely Night

As the sun goes down he can feel himself begin to breakdown, feeling the weight on his shoulders fall to the ground. Slowly he walks into his house, almost slamming the large wooden door shut, wanting nothing to do with the outside world, all he wants is to be himself. As he walks closer into the empty house, he can hear each footstep he takes against the rough hardwood floors. Pulling off his winter coat and placing it on the metal hook that hangs beside the door, his head drops, no longer looking up at the world, instead of at his worn and dirty shoes. He felt his world shatter. He felt his whole life crash at that moment, and there was nothing that he could do, nothing that he was capable of doing.

Falling to the floor, he let out the tears that he has been holding back. The hot tears stream down his face as he lays on the wooden ground, feeling like there is nothing left in this world for him, that he is done. He truly feels like he is nothing, and that the air he breathes should be no more, it could all be over in only seconds, he could finally be free of his tortured nights. Slowly lifting himself from the ground, the hot tears still falling from his eyes, walking across the creaky floor into his bedroom. Not thinking he goes straight to the nightstand, and as a shaky breath escapes his lips he opens the drawer and grabs the pistol. The same pistol that is supposed to protect him from the outside world, but at this moment it is going to be his escape from it all.

With no second thought he loads the gun, with each passing second he is becoming more confident in his decision and himself. The bullets slide into the gun easily. Soon he sits on the bed and puts the gun to his head, tears no longer streaming down his face, his mind finally at peace with it all. As his finger wraps around the trigger his mind is filled with his actions, the actions that got him in this position.

The day was like any other, he walked to his dead-end job, only to make money, but never enough. Working all day, and still barely making it to the next paycheck, can't afford anything nice, no car, no nice clothes, nothing he has ever wanted. The sun shining bright in the sky, blinding him as he took his next step. As he walked onto the construction site, he felt his shoulders tense, anger-filled him when he saw the site. Graffiti everywhere, covering every pole, every board, nothing was blank. The whole project was going to have to start over, the longer a project takes, the less the workers are paid, giving him less money for his everyday life. He was never going to get the truck, or even get the money to eat outside of his home from time to time. As this thought ran across his mind he heard the sound of a spray paint can, immediately he walked towards the sound, the closer he got he could hear voices. Rounding a corner he saw two teenage boys painting on a plank, the paint read "Modern life is war."

This angered him more than anything, he was being paid to work, he had to pay bills, pay for food, make a living he knew that now he was not going to make rent, he would be thrown out of his one-bedroom apartment, having nowhere to go. All because two boys felt that the times changing and people evolving was unjust, ruing his life because they can only see themselves. Unable to stop himself he walks faster towards the two boys, when they notice him they freeze in fear, after shaking out of the shock they try to run. Yet they weren't fast enough, he caught them by the shirt dragging them on the ground. He no longer could control his actions, no longer able to control himself as he kept dragging the boys. He knew that no one could hear their screams, and no other worker would be there for hours. Continuing to drag the two boys, their yells no longer present in his mind, he comes by a hole dug yesterday. Just standing above the hole he can see the pipes laid in, was almost ready for foundation but now the work would be stopped until the site was clear.

Time seemed to slow as he stood above the hole, still holding each boy by the shirt in each hand. Without a second thought he just throws one in the hole, watching him hit the pipes, some piercing through his body. Seeing the bloodstream down his face and body, he wanted more, he wanted revenge for his life, he wanted to do something. With his other hand he throws the next boy into the hole, he too was pierced by the poles, dying instantly. The blood was too much for him, but it seemed to give him life, almost like he wanted to do it all over again, that the thrill was worth the end of life. He stood there longer, just looking at their bodies below, seeing their eyes still open but lifeless in the sunlight.

Looking up he realized what just happened, but he also realized his thirst for more, wanting to chase this thrill, wanting to feel like this again. So he just started to walk, walking down the same streets, the same houses, soon he realized he was walking home. The closer he got to his door, the more that the sun went down, the more he felt regret and self-realization. Getting to his door he heard the sirens, they were heading in the direction of the construction site, someone must have seen the bodies.

Without a second thought, with the gun to his head, he took one last breath. Knowing that he wanted it all to end, to pay for what he has done and then he squeezed the trigger, and everything went black. He was now as lifeless as the two bodies lying in the hole, but it would be days before anyone found his body, only when the smell would get out would anyone see what had happened, would anyone even pretend that they cared.